


Outside Looking In

by loves_books



Category: The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:19:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other nurses had warned her, before they brought the injured Ranger up from surgery. They warned her but she didn't believe a word of it. That was her first mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outside Looking In

The other nurses had warned her, but she didn’t believe a word of it. That was her first mistake.

As they finished preparing the ICU room for the young Ranger who was just coming up from surgery, she’d listened in disbelief while her colleagues laughed softly as they worked, about a number of things she thought were highly inappropriate, joking that she had better brace herself, that she didn’t know what she was in for. They’d still been highly professional, of course, but she hadn’t quite expected levity on the intensive care ward in a frontline military hospital. Not about a soldier critically injured in the line of duty with two serious gunshot wounds.

One of the other nurses had seen her look of concern and confusion and quietly took her to one side, giving her the soldier’s medical file and reassuring her he’d survived far worse. In fact, reading through the long list of operations and procedures he’d been through over his time in the service, she could see why her colleagues had felt able to joke about it. Another nurse whispered that she had better watch out for the rest of his team as well, which sent the other nurses into quiet fits of laughter again, but she didn’t quite understand the warning, which was perhaps her second mistake – there were no visitors allowed on the intensive care ward, especially not team members, even if they were friends.

Once the Ranger had been wheeled into his room, she’d started to understand a little of what they’d meant. Lieutenant Peck was pale and clearly very weak, thick white bandages wrapped tightly around his muscular chest and right shoulder, hooked up to numerous machines and heavily medicated, but even semi-conscious he’d managed to ask for her phone number with a flirty if lopsided smile. And once they’d got him settled for the night, she turned to find three dusty, dirty Rangers hovering anxiously in the doorway to the unit.

They were a ragged looking bunch of men, all clearly exhausted themselves, and a mismatched collection of soldiers if ever she’d seen one. She was new to the hospital and to the entire base in fact, having only started her first shift earlier that day, but even she had heard tales of the infamous Colonel ‘Hannibal’ Smith and his alpha unit. She hadn’t realised quite how tall the Colonel was, though, nor how piercing his silvery-blue eyes could be. He offered her a strained smile and was very polite but insisted that they be allowed to see their Lieutenant, telling her over and over again that they were always allowed in, that they wouldn’t get in the way, that they had to see him.

There was something in his manner that made her pause, something in his eyes that told her this was more than just the understandable concern of a CO for a subordinate wounded under his command. They were a close-knit team, obviously, as small groups of Rangers often were in her limited experience, but still the rules had to be followed.

In the end, though, any attempt to send the men away proved futile, and she couldn’t help but notice how the rest of her colleagues didn’t even bother trying to back her up. Clearly this had been part of what they tried to warn her about earlier, and the three Rangers were both expected and accepted. She led Colonel Smith and his other two men – a Captain Murdock and Corporal Baracus – to Peck’s small room, cautioned them not to touch anything, and watched hesitantly from the doorway as they hurried to their fallen comrade.

Peck was deeply asleep again by that point, high as a kite on pain medication and a cocktail of other strong drugs, but that didn’t stop the Colonel from leaning close and whispering something in his ear. She was too far away to hear his words, though his ruggedly handsome face was both worried and relieved in equal measure. The Captain and the Corporal took up positions at the foot of the bed while Smith took the single seat by Peck’s bedside, and eventually she left them alone, as satisfied as she could be that they wouldn’t interfere.

Over the next two days it became apparent to her that the team were more than used to spending time in ICU wards, probably on military bases around the world. She’d tried to explain a little of what all the equipment attached to Peck was for, but they’d already known and understood. The Colonel didn’t leave his Lieutenant’s room for any longer than the time it took to shower and grab something to eat, while Murdock and Baracus seemed to fall effortlessly into a shift pattern of sorts, one of them always nearby. She had plenty of time to watch them all as she worked, and her curiosity only grew as time passed.

Smith hovered over Peck, though he managed to do it without being too obvious. Peck was a terrible patient, just as she’d been warned, conscious for increasingly longer periods of time as his wounds began to heal. One bullet to the chest, which had badly damaged his lung, and one to the shoulder, rupturing an artery. He’d nearly bled out before they got him into surgery, yet still he flirted and joked weakly with every doctor or nurse who came to his room – male and female alike, she couldn’t help noticing with a smile.

Smith just hovered, moving out of the way immediately whenever one of the medics needed to get close, and smiling like an indulgent father whenever Peck asked one of the staff if they wanted to go out on a date sometime. But at the same time, she couldn’t help noticing the deep worry in those blue-grey eyes of his, and the way he held the Lieutenant’s hand tightly when he thought no one was looking. She also noticed the way Peck clung to the older man, turning towards him automatically each time he surfaced from his drugged sleep, smiling softly up at his Colonel and murmuring something she never heard.

The other two team members were a little harder to read. Captain Murdock was something of a worry, if she was being honest with herself. Wild hair and even wilder eyes, which she could understand perhaps as one of his best friends was in the hospital, but one afternoon she caught him having a long and apparently in-depth conversation with what turned out to be a sock puppet. Later that same day she found him in the corridor doing a handstand – he’d assured her he was just letting the bad thoughts drain from the top of his head – and eventually she hesitantly asked one of her more experienced colleagues if the man shouldn’t perhaps see one of the counsellors, or a psychologist. PTSD was nothing to joke about, after all. 

After her colleague managed to stop laughing, she was given Captain Murdock’s medical file to read. She was startled to see it was more than twice the size of Peck’s, which had been an impressive size to begin with. Years of differing diagnoses, medication trials, therapies, hospitalisations – whatever was going on with the pilot, better medical professionals than her had tried and failed to figure it out, and the Captain was clearly functioning at the moment. Even if perhaps he functioned slightly differently to most.

He brought a smile to his friend’s pale face, though, which was the most important thing by far during a prolonged recovery like Peck was facing, and she quickly realised Murdock was harmless. Mostly harmless, at least, judging by some of the other stories she heard and tried to ignore. He started bringing her little gifts whenever he returned to the ward, just wrapped sweets or a magazine or two, and she figured she could forgive him for the time she walked in on him naked – in the ladies’ room – singing opera. He had quite a nice voice, at least, even if he was far too skinny.

Corporal Baracus, on the other hand, was a far quieter man and more difficult for her to understand at first. He was an imposing figure, not as tall as his Colonel nor as crazy-eyed as his pilot, but all muscle and certainly intimidating. Though he was the lowest-ranking member of the team, she had watched in awe that first night as he ordered Smith to go take a shower, saying Peck wouldn’t even know he was gone, and the Colonel had meekly obeyed. Similarly, he thought nothing of grabbing Murdock by the collar and dragging him bodily from the room when his antics threatened to grow out of control. 

Her first impressions of him were almost terrifying, quite frankly, though he was clearly dedicated to his team and fiercely protective of Peck. When he hovered outside the Lieutenant’s room, she had to square her shoulders and take a deep breath before going in, though she quickly learned he wasn’t at all scary. Quite the opposite, in fact.

It was the way he always offered her a little nod and a shy smile, calling her ‘ma’am’ in a way that made her feel ancient though she was only in her mid-twenties. It was the way he sometimes brought her a cup of coffee when he knew she was working, though he never stayed to chat the way Captain Murdock did, always ducking away shyly. It was his deep chocolate brown eyes, and his muscular shoulders, and the way his shirt was always so tight over his bulging biceps – okay, really not at all scary, she thought with a warm blush, forcing herself to look away and concentrate on her work.

Colonel Smith continued to hover, long after Peck was past those first critical 48 hours. She wasn’t blind, far from it – she could see there was something between the two men, something more than just team mates, though she wasn’t sure if they had done something about it yet or if it was all unresolved. If her colleagues on the ward noticed anything similar, then no one said anything, and she certainly didn’t ask for any second opinions on the matter. Instead, once Peck was out of danger, she tried to keep the blinds down on his room and closed the door whenever she could, giving them some semblance of privacy. None of her business, certainly.

Having looked at both Peck and Murdock’s medical records – and hadn’t those made fascinating reading, she thought with a bemused shake of her head – she asked if she could possibly see Baracus’s and Smith’s records too. She was unsurprised to see a long list of injuries for both men, though obviously the Colonel’s file was far bigger as he’d been in service longer than his younger team members. 

She’d spent enough time around soldiers to know that their lists of injuries weren’t in any way an indication that they were bad at their jobs. On the contrary, their injuries were a sign of just how dangerous their work was, and how frequently they went beyond the front lines. Peck had been critically injured the most, though, by a long way, and she remembered again her first instincts which had told her his team were more than used to spending time in an intensive care ward.

Days passed and Peck continued to recover, far faster than she had expected given the serious nature of his injuries. The other nurses on the ward told her that was par for the course with him; he always seemed to bounce back quickly, which was just as well given how frequently he was hurt. He was a sniper, apparently, one of the very best, often miles from his team and operating with little backup. The inevitable day came when he was due to be moved out of ICU and into a regular room, and to her surprise she found she would miss the man and his unusual team.

Peck was a charmer, certainly, his blue eyes bright and shining now they were free from the heavily drugged glaze of his first days post-surgery. Messy caramel coloured hair which formed a halo of sorts around his head, and the widest and whitest smile she thought she’d seen in a long while – though perhaps Corporal Baracus’s smile wasn’t far behind, in her opinion. It wasn’t all charm, though, as the Lieutenant was genuinely sweet and polite as well, always thanking her and the other staff, remembering their first names every time. 

The young Lieutenant clearly had a body to die for as well, all perfectly honed muscles and bronzed skin now he was starting to get his colour back, and she found she couldn’t blame Smith if he had been tempted by all that sculpted beauty. The way the two of them laughed and teased each other gently told her there was far more to their relationship than just the physical, which was comforting – the Colonel didn’t seem like the superficial type to her. 

The patient made several more half-hearted attempts to get her phone number, or to get her to agree to a date when he was eventually released, all of which she rebuffed with ease after several years of practise dealing with horny soldiers. His flirting made her question if her instincts over his relationship with the Colonel were right, but then she realised Smith was often holding Peck’s hand the whole time. The flirting was a cover, perhaps, or a distraction – again, none of her business, not really. 

She hadn’t spoken to Smith much, apart from to keep him up to date on Lieutenant Peck’s condition, but on the afternoon the injured man was moved to his new room, the Colonel shook her hand firmly and thanked her for her care. The power of his gaze and the strength of his grip were almost overwhelming and she could feel for herself what the legends said about this man – that he was someone brilliant, someone inspiring, someone who cared. She managed to fumble her way through a reply, then he was gone, following Peck out of the ward, which suddenly seemed a whole lot quieter without the team’s presence.

She didn’t see Peck or the rest of his team much for a week or two after that as she worked exclusively on the intensive care floor, but she heard stories. Someone had smuggled in an X-Box and organised an all-night tournament between both patients and staff. Smith had ordered in take-out pizza for the entire floor, an army of delivery drivers turning up unexpectedly. Peck and Murdock were caught having wheelchair races in the basement, and had talked the janitor into joining in. She found she believed everything without hesitation, though Peck really shouldn’t have been out of bed yet.

Corporal Baracus dropped by the ICU a couple of times, always bringing her a coffee, always disappearing before she could start a conversation. And then Captain Murdock appeared one afternoon, asking if she had a moment to stop in and say hello to Peck. Since it was quiet and she was due a break, she went willingly enough, and was pleased to see the Lieutenant was clearly doing so much better. There was colour back in his cheeks and a spark in his bright blue eyes, and it was obvious to her that he was itching to get out of the hospital and back to his work, though she knew he’d need a whole lot more physiotherapy for his shoulder, and that his chest injury would be slow to heal. 

Smith was right by Peck’s bedside, of course, just as he had always been in the ICU, though he looked far more relaxed now his Lieutenant was officially on the mend. Baracus was there too, perching uncomfortably on a plastic chair which seemed to be threatening to give way under his muscular body, and he offered her a shy smile when she came in, a smile she returned freely. Murdock bounced around behind her, giggling a little, and she belatedly wondered what she might have let herself in for by coming down. 

They talked a little, and it was good to hear that Peck really was doing better – he was hoping to be released to the care of his team in a couple of days, though a quick glance at his chart told her he should really stay in the hospital for at least another week. The lieutenant flirted with her, predictably, and asked for her phone number. When she laughed and told him a polite no, he asked her again but added that it was for Baracus, not for him.

Smith’s booming laugh merged beautifully with Murdock’s excited giggles, while Baracus blushed hard, swatted Peck’s foot through the blankets, and didn’t meet her gaze. Peck watched her expectantly, head tilted to one side, and for the first time she broke her golden rule and handed over her number willingly, telling the Corporal to call her soon, knowing she was blushing too.

As she left the room, Smith was holding Peck’s hand once more, and the four of them were laughing and teasing each other in a way she could just tell was second nature to them. They certainly were a team like none she had seen before, baffling in many ways and clearly very close to each other. 

She promised herself that the next time the other nurses warned her about something, she would listen. In the meantime, assuming he would be phoning her sooner rather than later, she’d better start planning what to wear on her date with the lovely Corporal Baracus, and watch out for Peck and the rest of his team at the same time.

**Author's Note:**

> Written about a year ago, this sat unfinished on my laptop until recently. I'm now determined not to let any piece be abandoned indefinitely and so I finished this up as a birthday gift for howlingmary79.


End file.
